


Ain't this more than Lust

by Kamari333



Series: ain't this more than lust [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underlust (Undertale), Canon-Typical Violence, Coffee, Emotional Baggage, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, M/M, Multi, Name Changes, Oral Sex, Prostitution, Public Blow Jobs, Public Hand Jobs, Recreational Drug Use, Sans (Undertale) Has Issues, Sans/Underfell Papyrus/Underfell Sans (Undertale), Underfell Papyrus (Undertale), Underfell Sans (Undertale), Underlust Papyrus (Undertale), Underlust Sans (Undertale), Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:22:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22827874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kamari333/pseuds/Kamari333
Summary: Inspired by Nilchance'sain't this the lifeseries, taking place at least sometime after part 31. Makes references to various parts of the series, however.Someone else gets shoved into the Poly's lives and its both exactly like, and completely different than, they could have expected.
Relationships: Papyrus & Sans (Undertale), Papyrus/Sans (Undertale), Sans/Sans (Undertale)
Series: ain't this more than lust [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1657252
Comments: 181
Kudos: 191





	1. Nobody Was Expecting This

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [ain't this the life](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12319578) by [nilchance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nilchance/pseuds/nilchance). 



> i read nil's work and wanted to throw the lust boi at it. so i am.  
> i guess i'll chip away at it when i'm in the mood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans and Red were having a nice day without pants and someone had to go and ruin it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sans and Red PoV of a new, unexpected thing that happens

Sans reached up languidly to snatch the blunt from between Red's razor teeth, delighting in the thrill of letting his fingers dangle so close to the sharpened tips. Red took the bait, nipping at the tips of Sans' distals, punishing his theft by taking his hand and rubbing his face all over it. Sans couldn't quite bring the blunt down to his own mouth with his arm taken as reparation, but somehow, to Sans' stoner brain, it seemed like justice.

The good kind of justice, not the kind that had been driving both him and Red to distraction lately. Justice could be kind, when it felt like. Felt like it more often when Sans was toked, but whatever.

"you're doing it again," Sans heard himself slur, his words reflecting how soft his thoughts had gotten around the edges. Soft like the blanket they were both draped in. Soft like the noise Red made every time he and Sans' be-collared wrist were reacquainted.

"doin' wut?" Red didn't sound like he cared about the answer so much as hearing Sans say it.

"purring."

Red added a chuckle to the list of soft noises he could make. "that a probl'm?"

The sunlight streamed weakly under the blackout curtains, refracting and reflecting on the smoke in the air, casting a soft glow on the room they had worked so hard to hotbox together. Red's crimson eyelights turned to starbursts in the twilight, reflecting off his false tooth, the highlight of his overconfident, self satisfied smirk (which had no business being as attractive as it was). The edge of it had dulled, worn smooth with tender care.

Letting out another sigh, Sans snuggled up closer to the guy he tended to have a lot of kinky sex with, who he wasn't going to put a label on because that might make it weird, and Red was too damn comfortable to cuddle with to risk making it weird. "nah."

Red moved Sans' hand to take another drag (the fucker), then moved it lower to offer Sans a puff. Sans blinked at the blunt, before partaking of it. If Red wanted to move his arm for him, less work for Sans.

Sans thought he might have been on his way to a nap, if not for the buzz that came from somewhere in Red's clothes, and the subsequent shifting Red had to do to procure the offending item.

Red frowned at the phone in his hand, blinking slow. He flipped it open, checking the text messages lazily with one hand as the other slid up and down Sans' spine, delicately feeling every segment as if to memorize them (as if he hadn't memorized them already).

"hey." The gravel sat heavy in Red's voice.

"yeah?"

"ya didn't pop by some dingy ass alley downtown by any chance, did ya?"

"...does the cunt between your legs count?"

"nope," Red said, and the complete lack of fond appreciation for Sans' newly acquired filthy mouth spoke volumes about his current preoccupation. "shit."

Sans rubbed idly at Red's clavicle, tracing a few of the scars there. "hey, if ya really miss back alley sex so bad, theres a denny's with a wrap around parking lot-"

"someone just saw ya go down some dank street with a john."

Sans snorted a laugh. "uh... dunno how. i've been right here getting stoned out of my mind. remember? you were there playing the part of full body pillow."

"yup." The last consonant popped in that odd way that meant Red was focusing on enunciation.

"so it couldnt of been me... or you..." Something was starting to nag at Sans through the comforting haze.

"'r boss, 'r the creampuff," Red agreed.

Sans blinked sleepily up at Red. Red blinked sleepily down at Sans. The both of them struggled against the comforting, tempting haze of their mutual self medication. They could just roll over and go back to sleep. They didn't have to deal with it. They could ignore that it existed.

Red pocketed his phone and started wiggling out of bed. Sans rolled off him, still blinking away the haze of sleep.

"i'mma wring their neck so hard their head pops clean fucking off." Red sounded about as pleased about being urged out of bed as Sans did.

It said something about Sans that he didn't immediately crack down on the threat of violence. Perhaps he was complacent in his belief that Red would practice restraint. Perhaps deep down he knew that he would help hide the body.

Sans slunk to the floor, probing blindly for his shorts. Or at least _a_ pair of shorts. He'd long since stopped caring whether the pants he wore were originally procured for him or not: if anything, realizing halfway through his day that he had Red's musk clinging to him from the waist down was a pleasant surprise. Sometimes he would even do it on purpose. If he was feeling particularly ornery, he might even complete the set with a shirt. Seeing Red's eyelights reignite when he noticed was another treat that Sans was shamelessly selfish in indulging.

Pants were procured. Slippers were slipped into. Jacket was oozed into. Opinions were exchanged silently through body language and osmosis.

Sans gripped onto the edge of Red's coat just as he slipped it on. Red wiggled his arm as if to shake him off. Sans did not release him, striding forward with an arched brow. Red arched his own brow ridge right back, gesturing with his other hand at where Sans had attached himself, as though the solution was to make Sans aware so he could correct the behavior. Sans started picking a bit of dried something out from between his teeth, using only the middle finger of his other hand. Red was noticeably grumpier, but let both arms drop to their sides, tapping his foot in a clipped staccato. Sans was imperceptibly smug as he tucked himself under Red's chin, arms around him securely. Red softened as he returned the gesture, clinging to Sans for dear life.

Sans squeezed his sockets shut just as Red took a step backwards. The soft warmth of the bedroom was ripped away, replaced by the otherness of the void. Sans felt Red tighten his hold for the non-existent time-span in which they were suspended between moments, between places, between the between. Sans didn't think about what could be there with them, or what _had_ been with them, in that infinite shard of nonexistence. He thought about Red, and how he was the type to bite and never let go.

Sans could really go for being bitten, now that he thought about it.

They reemerged into existence in a dingy alleyway, behind a couple of dumpsters that were overdue for a pickup. Sans nearly retched, hiding his face in Red's shoulder and trying to only breath in the scent of him, of marijuana and leather and sweat, of safety and bad decisions. It worked, and Red (who seemed unperturbed by the smell, or was stubborn enough to act like it) walked him down the alley and around the corner to the next one over.

They weren't two feet down the way before they both heard the unmistakable cadence of carnal relations, heavy breathing and slurred vulgarities in an unknown voice, accompanied by suspicious wet noises. Red and Sans moved silently to peak around the corner. That part of the alley was dark, even at that time of day, thanks to the position of a water tower on the building above it, but there was still enough for the two of them to see the shape of someone clearly human leaning against the wall, another person kneeling between their legs.

"Oh my god, how are you d-doing that without _lips??_ " The human moaned, chubby fingers scrabbling for purchase on the smooth surface of the other's skull.

The other pulled back, sliding smoothly off of the phallic object that they had been casually choking themselves on despite what looked like a good attempt from the human to hold them there. The human whimpered, hips stuttering and whole body trembling.

Compared to the human, the other person -- other monster, other _skeleton_ \-- was wholly unperturbed. A deep, velvety chuckle echoed soft off the brick walls of the alley. Sans couldn't see the other skeleton's face, but he could see the reflection of soft light, tinted purple in the dark, all over the human's pelvis and legs.

"time's up," came the deep voice that was both familiar and unfamiliar. Sans felt Red go rigid against him, felt the way Red's claws began to dig into the fabric of Sans' borrowed jacket with the force of how hard he was trying not to clench his fist. Sans didn't look up to check on Red, instead watching the way the other's shoulder moved, how he swayed easily along with what Sans could picture too clearly was the motion of his hand sliding up and down the human's cock.

"Wait, you can't just-" The human began to protest, only to be cut off by his own moan.

"i can~ and i must~" purred the voice Sans could barely recognize under the sweetened lilt. "i told you~ first minute's 1, the next five are 10, and the next ten are 100~ and so on~"

"B-but I don't have a hundred!!" The outraged, confused, vulnerable human whimpered, clinging to the skeleton's shoulders for dear life. The indents of the shape of his hands stood out starkly in the softer fringe of the skeleton's sleeveless jacket.

"well~ you _are_ pretty cute~ how about you just gimme all you got on ya, and we call it even, hmm~?"

"C-can't you just f-finish me? C'mon!!"

The skeleton was on his feet in an instant, the sole of one of his gogo boots slammed against the wall near the human's head. "oh, sweetie~ that's not how it works~" From the way the human's voice kept breaking, and how the skeleton's shoulders kept moving, he was still providing a complementary handjob, although it wasn't going anywhere. "money first, _then_ you finish~ its only fair~ of course, if you don't want to, that's fine too~"

The motion stopped, and the tortured whimper the human let out made Sans' magic throb in sympathy.

"O-ok, ok I- is forty ok?? Is-??"

"pay up, darling~"

The human pulled out his money clip faster than Sans had seen in a long time, only matched by the speed of the flash of cash passed between mostly obscured hands. The span of a heartbeat passed, and then the human threw his head back with a cry. Between his ragged, guttural utterances and the splatter of something moist, there was no doubt that he received his happy ending.

The skeleton pulled his leg back, stepping away from the human who slid to the ground to sit with his pants down to his splayed knees, shivering like a virgin who had never had a good lay in his life.

There was a brief flash of purple light, a slick noise. "pleasure doing business with ya."

It was all too easy for Sans to imagine a much more gravelly, smoke ruined voice saying the exact same thing, if under vastly different circumstances.

Heh, cir _cum_ stances. He'd need to tell Red that one after they figured out what the actual fuck was going on.

The other skeleton turned on his heels, and headed back out of the alleyway towards where Red and Sans were still lurking. Even in the shadows, Sans would have recognized those facial features anywhere. He saw them every time he looked in the mirror, every time he got Red to relax. There was no doubt who -- _what_ \-- this monster was.

Red didn't waste any more time. One moment he was holding Sans as if it were the only guarantee he would stay hidden, the next Red was jumping in front of the other Sans, pinning him to the wall with a bone construct to the throat.

Sans just sighed, shuffling over to try and calm down the traumatized human and maybe get him sent on his way home.

* * *

Red hadn't wanted to bring Sans along for the trip. He'd hoped that it would be an in-and-out situation: just a regular pop in, ask a few, 'what the fuck do you think you're doing in my universe' type questions (never mind that it wasn't technically his, he just sort of lived there now, but fuck it, he paid rent, what bills are they paying), maybe a few 'how the fuck's for good measure, take some tenth-dimensional spackle to the leaks in the universe and maybe lay a mouse trap or two to catch any other vermin that might try and ruin the good thing Red has going. He was expecting to throw a few bones around (his or otherwise), sprinkle in a few threats, then get back to playing strip bullshit with his pretty little liability.

Red had some _god damn plans_ for today, and none of them included anyone wearing pants.

Now look at what happened: his buzz was killed dead, his pants were on, _Sans'_ pants were on, the only one who was living the good-ol'-pantless life was some fleshy bimbo that Red was _this close_ to turning inside out for the sheer catharsis of murder.

And jealousy.

A seriously misplaced, visceral, instinctual jealousy that Red wasn't going to think too deeply on.

~~(He would rather chew glass than let someone else use Sans' mouth like that)~~

Which brought him full circle back to what he had pinned up against the wall.

The creature in front of him was more like Sans than Red was, all soft, round, smooth, (seemingly) unblemished white ivory, huge round orbits, and slender bones. He had the dark stains under his sockets, a slap-to-the-face kind of reminder of just how tired Sans used to look (how Red used to feel). He wore tight leather pants held cinched to his narrow pelvis by a well worn leather belt, the ankles stuffed into bright cyan gogo boots. The column of his lumbar vertebrae was exposed thanks to the shortness of his crop top, which bore the likeness of a cyan colored SOUL (and the sheer blatant lewdness of it would have had Red immediately in the mood if he wasn't as keyed up as a cheating boyfriend's car, holding the shirt by the neckline so its wearer couldn't do any fancy disappearing acts). He wore his sleeveless jacket wide open, letting the ends flap and flutter with every little sway of his body, accentuated by the fluffy blue puff lining. What kept attracting Red's attention the most, however, was the thin sheen of sweat that beaded over his entire body, tinted purple, bright and vivid, the same as his jacket.

Red wasn't going to think about why purple was such a turn on for him.

The other Sans kept his hands up in a placating gesture, as if he didn't have his back to the wall and every major joint flanked by a bone attack. His smile stayed serene, salacious almost (if you couldn't see the slight tension at the edges). "easy, there, handsome, i'm not gonna hurt ya."

Red wasn't going to think about why that sentiment made him _cranky_.

Sans shuffled over to the human, who was still cowering like a cum drunk bitch on the cement. "hey. need a hand? heh, i guess ya already got one, so how about a leg up?"

The human fumbled to pull his pants up and zip the fly, but (did the smart thing and) stood up on his own, using the wall for support.

"need a cab? coffee?"

The human shook his head, face doing the thing where it turns so pink it starts giving off heat. He skirted around first Sans, then Red, and then bolted for freedom down the alleyway.

Red would remember his face. He'd check up on him later (make sure he didnt make trouble). For the moment, he had trouble enough on his hands.

"a'aight. talk. who are you?" Red didn't have the patience to make small talk.

The other Sans shrugged as much as his current predicament allowed. "names sans."

Red brought the bone construct in his hand a bit closer to the new guy's throat, just in case he didn't get the memo that this wasn't comedy hour.

For some reason, the tension in his expression _eases_ , bleeding out like Red nicked him and it seeped through the wound. Red knows damn well he's barely touched the guy -- he'd be clutching at dust if he had.

Red isn't like Edge or Papyrus. He can't hit a guy with 1 HP and expect him to live.

Red's hands were both starting to feel warm.

"ok, sweetie, clearly ya didn't see me coming, and ya don't like me being around, so how about this-" The other Sans made a slight of hand motion, just a flick of his wrist, and he had a wad of cash in between his fingers, which stood out as much against his white bone as the black fingerless gloves hanging off them. "you take all my money, and i skip town? sound good?"

Red looked at the cash. Then he looked back at the monster. "just like that?"

The smile twitched wider. "just like that, handsome. i don't want trouble. you don't want trouble."

"well we _got_ fuckin' trouble now don't we?" Red hissed. "how the _fuck_ did you get here?"

"...walked?"

" _wrong god damn answer, pal_ ," Red hissed through gritted teeth.

"whatcha want to hear?" Other Sans asked softly. "i'll say whatever ya want me to say."

"maybe an easier question?" Sans cut in before Red could snarl his next threat. "why did you come?"

Questions, questions, questions. Red was starting to hate how nosy he was by nature, now nosy he had to be. Red was also starting to hate how stupidly easy the idiot in his clutches was to read. The way his grin twitched, how his sockets crinkled, how he averted his eyelights, it was like reading a book you'd already read in a slightly different font.

Red's hands felt really, _really_ warm, especially around the knuckles. Sweat slicked down the other Sans' temple, down to follow the curve oh his jaw. Something didn't smell right, and Red wasn't just talking about the miasma of _'oud du fuck me'_ that had filled the alley so much it was all Red could seem to smell (maybe it was Sans, maybe it was him, maybe it was the guy who just extorted fifty big ones from some dude with the single most aggressive back-alley handjob Red had ever fucking seen, and maybe it was Red again because he had just witness the single most aggressive back-alley handjob done by a guy who managed it while performing a perfect vertical-split foot stomp maneuver and that was _fucking hot_ )-

His hands were fucking hot.

Red dropped the bone construct to the ground, using his hand to grip the other Sans by the throat. It took a lot of heat to burn bone, but Red nearly flinched his hand right back anyway. The last time Red had held anything quite that warm that still moved by its own power, he'd been waterboarding Grillby.

The other Sans tilted his head back, _baring his throat_ and leaning into Red's palm, his sockets drifting shut in an all-too-familiar expression of bliss. Red could feel the thrum of his magic, could feel the shift of his ribcage as he took a deep, shaky breath that spoke volumes which Red didn't want to hear.

"answer the question." If Red said it a few decibels too soft, the deafening silence surely made up for it.

That infuriating grin quirked back up, like the shithead wasn't hot enough to cook an egg on, like he wasn't pinned to the wall like a fly being shaken down for his lunch money. "dunno. passed out on my couch, next thing i know my bro's pulling me outa some kinda bush."

Red finally broke eye contact to look at Sans. He didn't like the look on Sans' face, all sympathy and good intentions.

"hows about we go get your bro, and we treat ya to some lunch, huh?" Sans suggested. "sounds like theres a lot of talking we need to do."

"keep holding me like this and you can say whatever ya want~" the other Sans purred against Red's metacarpals, the vibrations traveling through him along with the other's unnatural warmth.

Red immediately let go, dispelling his attacks and dropping the little shit on his ass.


	2. Namely This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Names are being hashed out. And judgements are failing to be called.  
> Sans and Red bite their tongues trying to quietly suss out their new companions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm trying to lay the framework down for a new AU's culture, as if you lovely readers dont know a damn thing about it.
> 
> Tell me how i did =3
> 
> PS sorry about the name issues in advance, its beeing _addressed_ (-rimshot-)

"so... am i sans number 3 or is this just a skeleton convention?" Sans (the third?) asked, picking himself off the ground.

"just the three of us, as far as we know," the Sans without a collar said. "i'm the first one, so i get to be sans. this is red." He gestured to the Sans with a collar.

Sans 3 smirked at Red, reaching up to rub at his own throat where he could still feel the soothing chill of his hand imprinted against his body. "pleasure is all mine~"

Sans (the first -- and wasn't that a god damn trip?) swallowed with a hollow click, a nervous tick hardly anyone else would notice, but called to Sans (the third -- _he really needed his own nickname, this was going to get confusing quickly, otherwise_ ) with the force of a dinner bell to a starving man. Sans (the third) didn't take the bait, refused, _refused_ , but the predator inside him had prairie dogged, his hunger at full attention for the two full-course meals that had waltzed up to present themselves.

It was harder than he cared to admit to tell himself no, when he knew nobody else would. _Especially_ nobody who was also a version of himself.

"what we gonna call this one?" Red asked, refusing to take his eyes off Sans (the third). He didn't mind: those eyelights were an intoxicating shade of crimson, cold and calculating and distrustful. He could bask under that gaze for hours.

He looked at him like he was a person. It made him feel alive again.

"dunno. ya got any ideas, buddy? anything ya wanna be called?"

He _did_ have an idea. The irony of it would be worth his brother's scandalized protests. "call me lust." It was what he was, after all. It was what he was good at. So he did what he always did: he carefully folded his name and put it away, leaving him free to wear a new one. It was too easy, too familiar, to simply slip into a new name.

He was Lust now.

He would probably _remain_ Lust for longer than he was used to, but at least the name felt comfortable. It said something about him that he was comfortable in it. Probably the same thing the Judge said every time he looked in the mirror.

Mirrors were overrated, anyway.

"lust??" Red asked. "wut, think you're some kinda casanova?"

Lust smirked, taking two steps closer to Red as he rolled his neck. "want me to put my money where my mouth is? i promise, i bend that way~"

Shark teeth quirked into a sharper grin. Whatever served the same purpose as animal instinct in Lust reared back in mortal peril; the rest of Lust leaned forward. Anything that radiated that much danger _had_ to be _amazing_ in bed, and Lust was aware of his own weakness for teeth sharper than a butter knife.

"never seen someone limber enough to lick his own asshole before," Red quipped.

Lust grinned back. _If only he knew._

"ok, lust," Sans (the first one, the native one, the guy who was hosting, the guy who looked like he needed railed against the wall so the depression would fall out of his overstretched holes, and if that didn't make him a walking mood, Lust didn't know what would), "so, here's the plan. we go pick up your bro, we go get some lunch, then we take you to our embassy and get you legally integrated. sound like a plan?"

"sounds good." Lust didn't see a problem with that plan.

"k. how's grillby's sound?"

Grillby's sounded like loud bass, like laughter and the clink of a shot glass on lacquered bartop, like the crackle of fire and the echo of a sob he never let out from between his teeth. "maybe somewhere else? if it ain't too much trouble."

Sans and Red exchanged looks. "muffet's?" Sans suggested.

"no-" Lust cut in. The other two shot him a glance, and Lust realized too late that his objection had come too quick, too fast. He'd shown his hand in a way he'd been trying not to. Lust could try damage control, but it was too late. "no. uh. how about a nice human place? best behavior, scouts honor~"

He'd only save face if they _let_ him, but whether or not they let him would tell Lust more than he'd let slip.

Mirrored expressions reguarded Lust, and he wondered if he had ever worn that face, if that was why some people were uncomfortable around him: a penetrating knowing, like those eyelights could see so far through him they could read the graffiti behind his back. Whatever they saw (or thought they saw) seemed to be unpalatable, but that was to be expected. Lust shouldn't take it personally.

He does anyway.

"yeah, i know a place," Sans finally says, slow like he's trying to nudge the silence to one side instead of break it. "red, go grab us a table for four at that one cafe two blocks over."

Red crooked a brow, giving Sans a knowing look before disappearing between one breath and the next. Sans let out a sigh, smiling hopefully in Lust's direction. "so, lets go get your bro."

* * *

New Papyrus #2 was a sight, wearing tight leather pants and a vivid pink sweater under a slick black jacket. When Sans and Lust entered the cafe with him coming up the rear, Red couldn't help admiring his aesthetic. The only parts of him that Red didn't enjoy looking at were the discolored tear tracks still present on his face, shiny rosy strips where the bone had soaked in bits of magenta.

"hey, there a bathroom here?" Lust asked Sans, keeping his tone and face neutral. In the florescent lights, it was easier to see the crust of something that had probably once been white still clinging to the edges of his teeth. 

Sans didn't ask any questions, didn't offer any digs. He just pointed to the signs towards the back. Lust nodded, reaching behind him to loop an arm around his brother's. "start us out with two black coffees, yeah?" Lust asked, leading his brother away.

Sans didn't sit down until the two brothers were out of sight. When he did, it was less like sitting, and more like his legs gave out at the exact moment his ass was aligned with the cushion that padded the booth Red had chosen. Red slid the nearest arm around his waist, sliding his claws under Sans' shirt to hook into the wings of his ilia, digging in just enough to leave marks.

"you call edge yet?" Sans finally asked, staring a hole into the back of the opposite seats. Red pretended he couldn't feel him shaking in his hands. If Sans didn't want to be touched, Sans made it very clear he didn't want to be touched. Just because Red's teeth were sharper didn't mean Sans didn't bite.

"yeah. he's pissed." And water is wet. Red knew his brother had a complex. Red just didn't care most days. "they'll be ready when we get there."

The waitress, who had been hesitant to come too close with just Red stinking up the joint, approached to try and take their order from Sans. Sans hit it off with a joke thrown out with as much care as Red would pay to a gum wrapper, but the drinks got asked for and the human didn't throw salt (literally or figuratively).

Lust and his brother returned, sitting opposite Red and Sans. The crust and tear tracks were gone, although New Papyrus #2 seemed to still have that discolored edge around his sockets. What really hit it home for Red was the stubborn set of his jaw: despite the softer features and blunt teeth, it reminded Red too much of Edge, refusing to give anyone the satisfaction of knowing how badly off he really was. It made Red itch for an outlet that would bleed.

The four of them sat staring at each other in muted silence until their drinks arrived. Sans offered the waitress a soft 'thanks', although he never looked away from the two sitting across from them. The newly displaced brothers were staring right back, giving Red the kind of attention that tended to agitate his baser urges.

Sans leaned a little more of his weight on Red's side, as though his scrawny ass could hold Red down if he didn't want to be.

"IT IS VERY NICE TO MEET YOU," New Papyrus #2 finally murmured. His voice was somewhat like Papyrus', if you squinted, but there was a lilt to it, a shift in timbre. Red was pointedly ignoring how raw and hoarse it was. If he didn't, he was going to break something.

"same," Sans hummed, although whether he meant the other's sentiment, or he was echoing Red's opinions on the situation, it was hard to tell. Maybe both would be accurate, if Red knew Sans any. Nothing pissed Sans off like the idea of a mistreated Papyrus. "so. uh. i take it this was a bit of a shock."

"TO PUT IT MILDLY." New Papyrus #2 admitted, his smile quirking up as he added some cream and sugar to his coffee. Lust dutifully passed him whatever he needed, checking twice that his brother was well settled before picking his own cup up to chug with all the elegance of a wrecking ball, complete with the final slam of the empty cup back to the table. New Papyrus #2 side-eyed Lust, but chose not to comment, sipping his sweetened drink and sighing softly at the kick.

"well, good news is that since red and edge got here before you, we already have an idea of how to get you guys settled," Sans said. "just gotta sit through a few interviews at the embassy, fill out some paperwork, and we should be good to go." Sans gave his best attempt at a welcoming smile, which was better than what Red recalled as his first memory of the idiot. Then again, these new guys weren't three inches from dusting him against his livingroom wall. "housing might take a while, but you can bunk with me and pap until thats settled."

"THAT IS VERY GENEROUS OF YOU!!" New Papyrus #2 agreed, his grin softened to something less rage-inducing. "ARE YOU CERTAIN IT WILL NOT BE AN IMPOSITION??"

"can't be a worse house guest than this guy," Sans said, nudging Red with his shoulder. The soft fondness woven into the sentiment would normally be a crime Red let slide with a little bribery in the form of body heat, but he caught the enigmatic look in Lust's eyes, the smug grin Red had only ever seen on his own face, the piercing _knowing_. That was, of course, unacceptable, and Sans had to accept the consequences of getting them caught.

That punishment would have to wait until New Papyrus #2 wasn't putting Red's libido on a cosmic leash, but it would come. He would have to settle for a rough shoulder check in the meantime.

"real nice of ya, sansy~" Lust purred. "so, darling brother, have you considered a new name?"

"I AM AGREEABLE TO ANY NAME, SO LONG AS IT STILL BEGINS WITH A 'P'," New Papyrus #2 said. His sockets, lightless as they were, still somehow unfocused, fading into the middle distance. His smile slipped, and magenta color welled up along the bottom rim. It was there and gone, only a fraction of a second, but it was more than long enough for Red to dig his claws into the cushion seat under him until the claw marks hemorrhaged stuffing.

"how about pe-" Lust began.

"DONT! YOU! DARE!!"

"-ter." The smile Lust gave his brother was entirely too innocent. "what? what did you _think_ i was gonna say~?"

"YOU ARE NOT AS FUNNY AS YOU THINK YOU ARE." The tension was gone from New Papyrus #2's shoulders, telling Red that Lust had accomplished exactly what he had set out to do. Aptitude in distraction seemed to be a multiversal trait. 

"nah. but you're as cool as i think you are."

"I AM."

And suddenly the atmosphere was suffused with the soft, fluffy vulnerability that made Red want to bite something. He snatched his own coffee and chugged it, needing a hit of something bitter. Red was starting to get irritated. This fucker was over here making sex jokes and goofing off like he hadn't just extorted some idiot of all his money dick-first, like he hadn't fully intended on making his own shady way through life in a new universe supporting his brother on his knees.

"welp, you got time to think of a name," Sans mercifully cut in. "figured the two of you would be in, i dunno, more shock."

"WE GOT OVER THE SHOCK TWO DAYS AGO," New Papyrus #2 said. "BUT THE CONSIDERATION IS VERY MUCH APPRECIATED."

Red heard the crack before the pain hit him.

"red." Sans' voice cut sharp, a warning, a demand, a mercy.

Red looked down at his clenched fist, watching a bit of powdered ceramic flutter down between his phalanges like shed dust. He carefully, mechanically uncurled his fingers, staring at the broken coffee mug he'd crushed to pieces.

"...you owe me," was all Sans said, waving over the waitress to start mending bridges he'd never even broken.

Red was staring at the new brothers, trying to rationalize how they managed to exist for over two days without him hearing a god damn thing about it.

* * *

After paying for the broken cup and their drinks (leaving a generous tip in the hopes they didn't ban Red, because honestly, it was starting to become a problem finding places Red _hadn't_ gotten banned from for one reason or another), Sans ushered the group back outside to get in a limo the embassy had sent to pick them up.

Lust quirked a brow at it. Lust's brother gave it a passing glance before holding the door open for them all. Sans shoved the flitting disappointment down (but wondered idly why the sight of a car didn't cheer him up in the least). Lust got in first, and when Sans managed to follow, he saw Lust was frantically hiding the bottles of complementary MTT-Brand Sparkletastic Champagne under the seat.

If Red noticed their absence, he was at least in a good enough mood not to bitch about it. Or perhaps Red was simply on his best behavior because of the taller skeleton. Red had always worn kid-gloves around Papyrus, a fact that was only reinforced as their relationship developed. Seeing the usually prickly bastard carefully slot someone else into the box of people-to-handle-with-care was a different kind of trippy than what Sans had expected to enjoy that morning.

"pickles?" Lust suggested as the limo began its easy glide down the street.

"NO."

"pirate?"

"NO."

"playboy?"

"WE ARE THINKING OF NAMES FOR ME, NOT YOU."

Sans was polite enough not to acknowledge the snort-like noise Red made, but he didn't have the willpower to suppress his smile.

"pride? or maybe passion?"

New Papyrus #2 mulled over those options.

"those are both pretty thematic in different ways, aren't they?" Sans commented idly.

"THEMATIC WITH WHAT?"

"with lust's name." Sans gestured to Lust, who was sitting with his ankles crossed, looking out the window.

Sans could all but hear the record scratch in the air. "WHAT DID YOU CALL HIM?" New Papyrus #2's expression lost any and all warmth in an instant, his jaw locking with a click into gritted teeth. Sans felt sweat slick down his neck, some instinct he didn't know he had telling him to tread very, _very_ carefully.

"thats the name he picked," Red quipped, gravel grinding low in his voice in that casual way that Sans knew meant he was considering the pros and cons of assault.

New Papyrus #2 turned on Lust. "YOU UNCHOOSE THAT RIGHT NOW."

"nah."

"DO NOT 'NAH' AT ME. YOU PICK A NICER NAME THIS VERY INSTANT."

Lust turned to smile up at his brother, all soft serenity and calm innocence. "rather _attached_ to it, already, ya know? feels like its _a part_ of me."

"YOU ARE NOT AS FUNNY AS YOU THINK YOU ARE." Sans had never heard the same sentence spoken by the same person in such different ways in the span of ten minutes.

The tension built quietly as the car sped on. Sans felt Red shift at his side, reacting to the same imperceptible threat that had Sans' soul pounding in his skull. Sans brought his one wrist into his lap, slipping his other hand into the sleeve to feel the soft, treated leather coiled like his secret security blanket around his carpals and forearm. Sans was used to feeling afraid (if not as much as before), so the fact he needed to seek out comfort wasn't new: what was bothering him the most was that he didn't understand what he needed comfort _from_.

He couldn't see the danger in a fully lit room, and that had _never_ happened before.

Sans could only imagine what kind of bullshit that not-knowing was doing to Red, when his paranoia and anxiety were already so easily taxed, even with full knowledge and disclosure.

The prickling presence of invisible beasts slowly faded, and New Papyrus #2's shoulders slumped. He crossed his arms, then fell back into a bit of a slouch in his seat, where he crossed his knees in the fullest, most dramatic pout Sans had seen in ages. "I AM NOT CALLING YOU THAT. EVER."

"that fair." Lust didn't push the issue. Sans wished he knew what issue it was he wasn't pushing.

"I WILL CALL YOU A BROTHERLY MONICKER AND YOU WILL ANSWER TO IT WITHOUT FAIL."

"ok."

"AND YOU WILL BE PUTTING A DOLLAR IN THE DEPRESSION JAR THE MOMENT I GET ONE."

"ok."

"I AM TORN BETWEEN 'PASSION' AND 'PINK' FOR MY DESIGNATION, BUT AS I AM FEELING IRRITATED WITH YOU I WILL NOT BE DISCUSSING IT FURTHER FOR THE TIME BEING."

"love ya bro."

"I LOVE YOU TOO BUT I AM STILL UPSET WITH YOU."

Lust just shrugged, accepting his brother's temporary disappointment with the same stride Sans knew so well by heart. Whatever that had been seemed to be deeply rooted in old arguments and older issues.

Even Sans could smell the blood in the water, and he wasn't the one with a taste for it. He just hoped Red had enough sense left to keep himself in check until things calmed down.

They hadn't even gotten to the embassy yet, and Sans already felt like it had been a long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> someone thinks they're funny


	3. Pink-tinted Glasses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pink decides some things. Including his name, his brothers nickname, and how he isnt thinking about things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i really wanted to publish something on Leap Day
> 
> only problem is i've been sick af the last two days and this is all i could scrap together
> 
> its short so i'll make the next chapter a bit extra to compensate

Pink decided his name would be 'Pink' for a number if reasons, not the least of which being that the only other name he would not mind being called was 'Passion', and he felt that to be disingenuous given he was distinctly lacking in any such thing for the foreseeable future. Pink was a perfectly acceptable nickname, and one of his favorite colors. It would do until he managed to find a way to go home.

He did not think about the name he wanted to hear, because he only wanted to hear it in one voice, and it was a voice that could never reach him where he was now. He did not think about why pink was his favorite color. He did not think about why his passion was gone, where he had left it to keep it safe.

He was decidedly _not_ thinking about a lot of things, because thinking about them would not do anyone any good, least of all himself.

The rest of the car ride was rife with awkwardness and uncomfortable silence. Pink's brother ( _whom Pink was never, ever, EVER going to think or acknowledge as 'Lust' because that was only going to reinforce his brother's strange notions of inadequacy and detrimental self worth, neither of which were true no matter what; he was more than LUST -- LUST-er? Luster! That would work: his brother was aesthetically pleasant, a trait that must run in the family they never had, so it fit perfectly and turned the conotations on their head_ ) was unusually pensive, watching the scenery out of the window. There was a view of a group of humans huddled under an awning, looking in a store window. One of them was holding hands with a much smaller human.

It wasn't wearing stripes. Pink could be mistaken. But it was so _small_.

He added that to the list of things he wasn't thinking about.

The car came to a halt in front of a large building, flags billowing proudly on poles that reached up to the open sky. The delta rune was emblazoned on one, uniting two things Pink had never thought could ever be one. It was a sight he was going to save until he could paint it for-

_-for a person he absolutely wasn't thinking about._

Sans (the native Sans, not his brother) opened the door, letting in unfiltered sunlight as he oozed onto the sidewalk. Red followed after him, steadying himself using Sans' shoulder. His hand lingered long after he had found his balance, keeping the space between them as small as possible.

It was adorable in its simplicity, the way they showed their pure, unfettered devotion. Pink knew his brother's love language, knew how much those simple little touches conveyed. Seeing it played out and mirrored and mirrored again in the feedback loop of reciprocation did funny things to Pink's soul, like fill him with a wholesome warmth, and make him worry for his own brother's feelings.

He knew how hard it was seeing other people have what you wanted and never got.

Pink slid out of the car next, letting Luster bring up the rear, and followed Sans and Red passed twin statues that looked like replicas of the Waterfall Memorial Statue, up to the front doors.

A tall skeleton was waiting for there there, dressed in a sharp black suit, accented by red gloves. His arms were crossed over his chest, but the rest of his posture was at attention, the same alignment of familiar slender hips and long legs that Pink knew from years of mimicry. Even under the scars and sharp teeth, behind the crimson eyelights and resting-bitch-face, Pink knew what a Papyrus looked like.

And when those crimson features softened upon seeing Red and Sans, Pink knew what unfettered devotion looked like too (he had seen it enough, reflected back at him in his beloved's undamaged eye). Pink froze mid-step as he processed the change in body language, the implications.

Pink decided he didn't have the energy to unpack everything at once. He could deal with whatever mixed bag of feelings his double was offering after he had had a few more days to acclimate to the soul rending agony of being taken so far from home.

"YOU MUST BE THE NEW... GUESTS." The other tall handsome Papyrus said slowly. Pink appreciated the delicacy of his word choice. "I AM EDGE. I WILL BE ESCORTING YOU FOR THE DURATION OF YOUR INVESTIGATION."

Pink smiled. _He would be their warden until they were deemed safe and sane and not a threat to society._ Pink looked down to his elbow where he felt Luster take point. He should be insulted on his brother's behalf that they would think him so far gone, stats aside, but he knew safety was important, and that they did not know each other.

"a free _escort_ ~? and so handsome too~" Luster joked. 

"SANS, THAT JOKE IS OLDER THAN YOUR WANK SOCK."

"c'mon, bro, just appreciating the goods and _services._ "

Pink snorted a laugh. If anyone could distract him from his feelings, it was his brother. He gave him a playful shove for his linguistic crimes. The chuckle he got in return was brief and shallow, but it was something.

Pink had to remember that he was not the only one hurting right now.

When he looked back up, Pink noticed the way Edge was looking at Luster, intense like a starving dog at a steak dinner (a well trained dog, sitting still and at attention, tail wagging in subconscious hope of reward). Pink wondered if that was the same face he wore all those years watching his love from afar.

Probably.

"did he just say-" Red started, something like awed delight in his voice. His eyelights, his namesake, were blown out a bit wider, his sockets deformed to match his wicked smile (the kind of smile that Pink would see on his brother's face when he was thinking something awful, or vindictive, or both).

"anyway-" Sans (whom Pink would need to think of a nickname for because _wowwie that was going to get confusing fast_ ) cut in quickly. "there's a few people who are gonna wanna interview ya, make sure we're all on the same page, help you fill out your forms, all of that boring stuff."

"sure. shall we then? i have a date this afternoon that i'd rather not miss." Luster hummed, hooking his thumbs over the rim of his jacket pockets.

Edge quirked a brow ridge, his face otherwise blank as a mask. Red and Sans exchanged the briefest of looks. The silent conversation seemed to put pressure on Sans from an irritated Red, but the micro-expressions went too quickly for Pink to pick up any true nuance. If Luster caught it, he wasn't telling.

"...yeah, sure." Sans finally said, his stance returning to something more relaxed. "follow me."

Sans started walking, Red close behind him. Luster winked at Edge on his way passed ( _because of course he did, how could he resist after Edge all but wrote 'free samples' on his forehead_ ), and somehow Edge managed to make his posture impossibly stiffer, all but vibrating with the tension of his own restraint. Pink tried to apologize with his eyes as he too followed the line of skeletons, letting Edge bring up the rear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pink isnt dumb XD


	4. A Long Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Its been a long day and it's not even noon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm a few minutes late getting it up, but YAY a 3/3 chapter!!
> 
> its actually a little after 1 in the fic, probably, but who is paying attention to time at this point
> 
> a warning: i'm trying to keep as close to canon Underlust as possible, but my headcanons affect my interpretation pretty hard in some flagrant ways. so forgive me for my guilty pleasures

Pink had been expecting the atmosphere he found inside the Monster Embassy: clean and professional, yet tempered by a warm, welcoming community. He had been expecting the warm rugs and potted plants (although he had been picturing roses, not buttercups, marigolds, and gorse). What he had _not_ been expecting was the incredible prominence of a box-shaped robot. The carpets were shaped like it, the tapestries, the statues; there was even an indoor fountain with water coming out of a mouth-shaped hole under the pixelated screen of this inexplicable rectangular figure.

Luster burst out laughing at the sight.

"BROTHER, PLEASE DO NOT BE RUDE," Pink responded automatically, trying not to think about why the robot seemed familiar, why he could have sworn he could feel the texture of those tube-like arms in his hands, why the slight irregularity in the space between two of the segments on the left side, rendered and recreated in loving detail, made his soul shudder and tighten, why the pixel screen made his magic throb up and down his spine and his eye sockets burn with overflow he refused to shed.

He was only thankful that the resemblance ended there, leaving him to mourn the phantom sensation of those flexible arms around his inflexible bones, the texture of the gloves worn soft and supple on one side from all of their aggressive hand holding. He could mourn quietly, piece by piece, so it didn't all come out at once. He was not going to make a scene.

"pink? you ok?" Sans asked softly. 

Pink shook himself, recalibrating. He had not realized how soft and fuzzy the world had gone at the edges until he tried to focus on anything besides the robot he suspected he knew by name. "WHY OF COURSE! JUST ADMIRING THE TASTEFUL DECORE."

Sans and Red were both staring at him, Sans with quiet, confused pity, Red with a look he had only seen once before, when Pink was still in stripes and come home from school with all of his things stolen, a little worse for wear: the look Luster had worn while cleaning Pink up had been pretty similar, a weapon without a target.

Neither one of them believed a word Pink said, even though it was technically true.

"it's just a little warm in here is all," Luster said, drawing attention away from Pink and onto himself. Pink might have called it a mercy, if not for the mirthful glee sparkling in ambush. "yanno, with all the _ninety degrees._ "

Pink heard a groan that matched his own come from behind him. Red seemed to stagger as if struck physically, while Sans started openly snickering.

"THAT IS TERRIBLE." Pink huffed.

"YOU CAN MAKE YOUR TERRIBLE JOKES AFTER THE INTERVIEWS," Edge cut in, just as exasperated and not-so-secretly amused as Pink. "SANS, WE ARE TAKING THIS ONE-" At which point he indicated Pink- "TO ROOM THREE TO MEET UNDYNE AND HIS MAJESTY."

"I HAVE DECIDED TO BE CALLED 'PINK'," Pink informed him helpfully. He read between the lines there, wondering what poor sod was going to be stuck pretending they were keeping his brother distracted instead of being humored by him. He did not envy anyone who had to suffer his brother when he was stressed. He did not envy anyone who had to risk it.

"PINK, THEN." Edge gestured down the hall, prompting Sans and Red to keep walking until they stopped in front of a pair of large double doors. Edge pushed them open, revealing what looked to be Undyne herself standing guard. Pink tried not to make comparisons between what was his friend and superior, and this person who definitely could not be the same person.

"PINK, THIS IS CAPTAIN UNDYNE. I AM LEAVING YOU IN HER CAPABLE HANDS."

"Woah." Undyne's voice was coarser than it should have been. He could still hear it, the pitch and syntax of his friend, but there was something missing, just a little to the left. The discrepancy made looking at her easier. The modest armour also helped. "You sure this isn't just, uh, Papyrus in a pink sweater?" She asked softly, or at least softly for Undyne.

"thats a mixed question don't ya think~?" Luster perked up from behind them.

Undyne braced herself on the edge of the closed half of the door, leaning to peer between Pink and Edge, to stare at Luster. Her fingers dug shallow grooves into the soft wood, her mouth fluttering open and closed in slow motion, displaying the way her sharp piranha teeth slid so neatly into place against each other. When she finally found her voice again, it was almost shrill. "What the HELL are you WEARING?!?!"

Luster wiggled his brow ridges. "for the right price, the answer can be whatever you want~"

The unimpressed fish monster leveled Luster with the appropriate amount of _'really, is that what you're going with'_ energy, telling Pink that she also had experience dealing with (a) Sans. "And here I thought you- Sans- THIS couldn't get any more weird."

"what?" Luster returned Undyne's stare with that look, the one Pink knew was never quite on purpose, the knowing one. "am i too ruggedly masculine for your sapphic tastes? or did nobody tell you just how flexible a skeleton can be in terms of the soft and squishy~?"

"What..?" Undyne parroted.

Pink watched as three faces all experienced the five stages of grief all at once.

"oh, _honey,_ " And Pink knew that gleeful, sadistic lilt, the call of a wild brother who had tasted blood in the water and was ready to go in for the proverbial kill with fucking bells on (pun unfortunately intended). "hows about you and me have a biology lesson and i show ya how many ways i can shape my-" 

"AND I WILL BE TAKING _HIM_ INTO THE OTHER ROOM NOW, THANK YOU FOR YOUR HARD WORK, CAPTAIN, GOOD DAY-!" Edge said in a burst, putting a hand on Luster's back and starting to push him gently but firmly down the hall. Luster leaned on Edge's hand, maintaining eye contact with the nearly-traumatized guard captain and giving her a saucy wink before he was herded through a smaller door. Red followed after them.

Sans stayed by Pink and Undyne, his face the color of his hoody. "uh. could we pretend you didn't hear that?"

"Only until I'm off the clock," Undyne wheezed. "Alphys needs this for her friendfiction."

The three of them stood there in the doorway, Pink patiently allowing them to get over what appeared to be adorable wellsprings of embarrassment. As he suspected, they overcame their unreasonable emotions on their own time, and Undyne ushered Pink into the meeting room.

* * *

Sans decided to leave the awkward, uncomfortable feeling, which came from someone (nevermind that someone being Undyne) having any idea what he may or may not have going on in his pants, at the door. He didn't intend to pick it back up later. That feeling was going to be abandoned and live the rest of its life as an orphan.

Lust was a vicious, shameless, brutal guy, and he and Sans were going to have to have a talk, assuming he survived being alone with Red and Edge.

Eh, room four was the one with sturdy furniture, and that was a problem for Future Sans to expertly dodge.

Undyne took her position at Asgore's side, standing next to his seat. Asgore was a large, awe inspiring monster, somehow managing to appear both regal and unimposing. Today he was dressed in his royal finery, royal-purple cloak cascading over broad shoulders. His horns were polished to a fine shine, framing the crown that would have looked big on anyone else, but sat modestly on his head, gold to match his blond accents.

Asgore had dressed up, which, for such a laid back ruler, was a sign of him taking things seriously -- not that Sans let his gaze linger very long: he had just gotten over a rather painful bout of _judgmental_ headaches and wasn't particularly keen on starting another.

For better or worse, Pink proved to be an excellent distraction. He took one look at Asgore, and then snapped to rigid attention. "IT IS LOVELY TO MEET YOU AGAIN, YOUR FLUFFY MAJESTY," he greeted, bowing at a full ninety degrees, one arm bent and crossed over his chest, his fist clenched over the opposite shoulder. "IF I HAD KNOWN I WOULD BE VISITING YOU PERSONALLY, I WOULD HAVE DRESSED FOR THE OCCASION."

There was a soft silence. Sans took in the comfortable confidence Pink so easily slid into, formal and professional in a way Papyrus never managed, yet flexible and enthusiastic in a way Edge could not bring himself to be. There was experience there, but to Sans's great relief, not the kind that left scars.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Papyrus." Asgore answered, relaxing his own posture at the presence of such calm. Pink had Papyrus' special talent at soothing nerves, no doubt about it. "Have you been given or chosen a second name?"

"I HAVE CHOSEN TO BE CALLED PINK. IT IS MY FAVORITE COLOR, AS YOU CAN SEE." Pink still hadn't straightened from his formal bow. He stood unmoving as a statue, in perfect form. His legs weren't even shaking. Sans was starting to get tired just looking at him, despite having sat down in the chair next to the empty one left for Undyne.

"...You may rise, Pink," Asgore said evenly, a curious lilt to his voice. Pink immediately stood to attention, hands behind his back, feet shoulder width apart. It reminded Sans too much of Edge, of his military habits.

"I know this must be a very stressful, confusing experience for you," Asgore continued. "We would like to make it as easy and welcoming a change as possible. You will understand, however, that we might have concerns that need to be swayed..?"

Pink smiled. "I UNDERSTAND COMPLETELY, YOUR FLUFFY MAJESTY. IT WOULD BE MY PLEASURE TO HELP IN ANY WAY I CAN."

"Wonderful." Asgore flipped open a file (the papers looking so small in his massive paws). "So... let us start with a few questions. Do not feel pressured, just answer as truthfully and honestly as you can."

Pink nodded. Sans had to bite back a laugh as he recognized the slight curve of that smile, the Papyrus grin of patient humoring.

"Excellent. So..." Asgore leaned forward a bit. "Do you know how you got here?"

"NOT AT ALL, SIRE," Pink chirped. "I WAS HEADED HOME FROM MY VOLUNTEER WORK IN HOTLAND WHEN THE WORLD SEEMED TO... STAGGER?? FLICKER?? IT WAS LIKE-" He cut himself off, eyelights flickering briefly to Sans before returning to Asgore. "LIKE A BLACKOUT?"

That wasn't what he was about to say, but Sans had no intention of calling him out on it.

"AND THEN I WASN'T WHERE I WAS?? AND THERE WAS GRASS. AND I SAW MY BROTHER'S LEG STICKING OUT OF A BUSH SO I PULLED HIM OUT BUT HE WAS NOT MAKING ANY SENSE BECAUSE HE IS A LAZY DRUNK SO I SHOOK HIM A LITTLE AND-"

"So you were in your world one minute, and ours the next?" Undyne had always been curious about interdimensional subjects (something about anime). Edge and Red refused to even wet her appetite, and neither Sans nor Papyrus thought it polite to share what was entrusted to them (or thrust upon them traumatically).

"THAT IS RIGHT. AND SANS WAS VERY DRUNK BECAUSE HE ALWAYS HAS A LITTLE TOO MUCH ON NIGHTS HE IS NOT SCHEDULED TO DO MORNING SHIFTS, SO HE DID NOT KNOW WHAT WAS HAPPENING EITHER, AND THEN A BIRD LANDED ON MY HEAD, AND I LOOKED UP, AND THERE WAS NO CEILING, AND WE WERE VERY EMOTIONAL FOR TWO DAYS."

"...Two days, you say..." Asgore kept his tone carefully controlled, but Sans knew alarm bells when he heard one. "And what were you doing for the last two days?"

"HAVING THINGS IN OUR EYES, MOSTLY."

"What sort of things?"

"WELL, I HAD TEARS, BUT THERE IS NO TELLING WITH MY BROTHER: MONEY, BODY PARTS, FOOD; HE PULLED OUT A GOLDFISH THE OTHER NIGHT AND SOLD IT FOR LUNCH MONEY. I STILL DO NOT KNOW WHERE HE MANAGED TO GET A GOLDFISH, NEVER MIND FIND THE TIME TO STUFF IT IN HIS EYE SOCKET."

Sans grit his teeth. He wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh or cringe or start crying himself. There was a lot to unpack in there, a lot to read between the lines.

He didn't want to know what having a goldfish in his skull felt like.

"That is..." Asgore began to fumble.

"Why did he put a FISH in his HEAD?!" Undyne got straight to the point.

"HE SAYS IT IS BECAUSE HIS PANTS DO NOT HAVE POCKETS, BUT I THINK IT IS JUST FOR SHOCK VALUE."

That sounded far too much like a mood, in Sans' opinion.

"Indeed. Well... The next few questions are about you, and where you come from... So we can help you settle in. Are you comfortable with that?" Asgore was doing that thing where he phrases an order like a question, to soften any unexpected edges. Sans sometimes wished he wouldn't.

"OF COURSE!!"

"Wonderful. To start with... Would you tell me your HP, DEF, ATK, and LV?" Asgore asked softly, situating an oversized novelty ladybug pen in his thick, furry fingers.

Pink's smile never faltered, but Sans caught the slight curl of his brows, the change in expression he attributed to when his brother heard something that did not sound right, but was too polite to offer a correction. "700, 22, 22, AND... 1..?"

Asgore glanced at Sans. Sans nodded. Pink was telling the truth, clear as day. His stats were just a little higher than Papyrus', save for the LV. Tension left the king, and he made checkmarks next to his notes. Approval.

He and Sans were in agreement there, at least. A first for everything.

"And what was your occupation?"

Pink smiled. "I WAS A REGULAR VOLUNTEER FOR THE ROYAL HAREM, BUT I RECENTLY PICKED UP AN APPRENTICESHIP WITH THE ROYAL SCIENTIST, DR ALPHYS, TO STUDY ROBOTICS."

Asgore nodded along, smiling softly, until something clicked. The fur on his cheeks seemed to turn bright pink, the white strands unable to hide the sheer vividity of his blush. "I'm sorry, the _Royal What_??"

"THE ROYAL HAREM." Pink repeated. As if that were normal. As if the implications weren't cloying in their blatancy.

Sans felt sick. Lust's behavior and... proficiencies were being put into terrible context.

Pink seemed to think the shocked silence was a cue to continue talking. "CAPTAIN UNDYNE WAS UNDER THE IMPRESSION THAT I DID NOT HAVE WHAT IT TOOK EMOTIONALLY TO BE AN EFFECTIVE MEMBER OF THE HAREM-" if Pink noticed the wave of flinches that went through the three of them, it didn't even slow him down- "BUT WITH MY PERSEVERANCE I WAS ABLE TO CONVINCE HER TO ALLOW ME A JOURNEYMAN POSITION VOLUNTEERING IN SNOWDIN. I WAS TECHNICALLY AN INDEPENDENT WORKER, BUT CAPTAIN UNDYNE WAS INCREDIBLY HELPFUL."

Undyne swallowed audibly, her one eye bulging out of her head. Her scales were bright pink from her flattened nose to the curve of her collarbone. Sans might have found it funny, if he weren't trying so hard not to imagine Papyrus anywhere near the vicinity of the postal code of the area of that vocation.

It took him a bit of mental gymnastics. Reskinning the terrible mental conjurings to feature Edge instead only helped so much.

"I- This-" Asgore must have been struggling just as hard with mental images of his own. He and Undyne were desperately not looking at each other. "There is no such position here. And has never been. There is only the Royal Guard. Which is strictly about security."

Pink nodded. "I SEE. YES. THAT MAKES SENSE." The confused look that had hovered on his face melted away.

"You mentioned studying under a Dr Alphys regarding... robotics?" Asgore was all but begging to change the subject.

"YES!"

"Splendid. I'm sure there are plenty of opportunities for such skill." Asgore made a few more notes, looking far more interested in wrapping up the interview than Sans had ever seen him in his life. "In the meantime, Sans and Papyrus have already opened their home once. Sans, would you-"

"need to talk to paps first, but probably." Sans knew his brother. He would probably jump for joy as soon as he heard. Sans was starting to question if he wouldn't rather he and Papyrus move in with Red and Edge so the new brothers could have space to themselves.

"Splendid. Then, after I speak to your brother, we can all go down to the licensing office together and get the paperwork out of the way."

Pink bowed again. "THANK YOU VERY MUCH, YOUR FLUFFY MAJESTY."

"Please, just Asgore is fine."

Sans texted Edge, letting him know it was time to swap them out. Sweat slicked down his neck, liquid apprehension he didn't have any other outlet for, not when the last thing Sans wanted to do was rock the boat. Pink's words kept nagging at him, painting a picture he wasn't sure he liked the look of.

After all, what had Pink been 'volunteering' _for?_

* * *

Red slipped passed Edge's elbow right before he closed the door, all threat and no regret. Edge stomped down the knee jerk reaction to grab Red by the collar and slam him into the floor, to pin him down until all the bite left and he looked a little less like an overcharged lightbulb about to short out. He felt the soft brass of the doorknob give quietly under his hands, and made a mental note to inform the finance department of his unintended vandalism.

He could still feel the banked heat through his gloves from where he had touched the New Sans's back.

"i'm starting to think nobody here wants to have any fun," the New Sans huffed, false insult highlighting the dangerous mischief shimmering in his deceptively blunt smile. When Edge turned around, he was sitting in one of the chairs, his gogo boots propped up on the table, crossed primly at the ankles. He had his hands laced together behind his head, leaning back to show off his bare, unclaimed throat, balancing on the rear two legs of the chair. Underneath the smooth, untouched bones, revealing clothes, and complete smile, all Edge can see is how Red looks when he's tasted blood and being cajoled to heel.

"the balls on you-" Red growled, and it says something that even Edge can't tell if its out of anger or admiration. Even Red probably doesn't know.

"that was the topic of discussion, yeah," New Sans teased, his sockets squinted in pleasure. Edge could taste how much he was enjoying the subtle grating against Red's aggressive personality, using it to sharpen his own grin like a knife against a wet-stone, until it was sharp enough to carve his name in the bleeding rock. "or were ya asking for a live performance?"

"already got a demo of that pretty mouth a yours," Red all but purred, the noise a waveform of all the tension he was holding back in a single string. It was information Edge wished he'd been allotted when he had a moment alone.

"and yet all i got from you was a raging boner," the other quipped back.

"PERHAPS YOU COULD CONTINUE YOUR NOT SO WITTY BANTER AFTER INTRODUCTIONS?" Edge cut in. It wasn't necessary, but he didn't know for certain if he could suffer silently through the jarring exchange of veiled wordplay.

"oh, yeah," the New Sans said with a click of his tongue, which Edge got to see when he licked the tip of his pinky and used it to smooth over eyebrows he didn't have. "call me lust. the pleasure is mine, edge-baby."

Heat flared in Edge's face, as if the fireplace that was Lust's body was inches away from it. That didn't sound like such a bad idea.

Edge couldn't tell if the growl he heard was his brother's or his own.

Lust smiled wider, wiggling his brow ridges before letting his feet slide off the table. The front legs of his chair hit the floor with a loud thump. Lust landed in a pose with his chin cradled in his hands, propped up by his elbows on the table. "so how exactly are we going to pass the time? i can think of a few ideas~" 

Unfortunately, so could Edge.

Edge had always held his keen, incentive, strategic mind as a source of pride, but at the moment, trapped as he was in a timed escape room with the two most volatile substances he had ever seen now making contact, he viewed it as a curse.

He was _at work._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not sure how happy i am with this ending


	5. Better You than Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theres a lot of uncomfortable realizations, and some jealousy, but everyone goes home at the end of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a five chapter intro into a miniseries isn't too bad
> 
> hope you enjoyed this so far!  
> welcome the underlust bros!!

Red never took his eyes off of Lust, waiting for the flinch, the sign, the moment that would tell him that the bastard finally checked them, saw what they were, what they had done. Red can practically smell it, the bitterness of the Judge's presence. He knew Lust could see it, but the bastard hadn't batted an eye once the entire time, unless one counted the excessive winking. 

The meeting room had gone quiet in the wake of Lust's shameless baiting. Lust was still holding Edge's gaze, as unshakable and irresistible as any shackles. He had his hands in front of him, wrists pressed together in the perfect position to be tied, as if he somehow knew what that did to Edge's libido. On top of that, he had angled himself just enough to keep his bare neck visible to both of them, chin propped on his palms and tilted to one side, letting them both see the pale purple sheen of sweat slide down his cervical vertebrae to pool on his clavicle, visible again thanks to him having shaken his jacket off his shoulders, left to hang and pool in a cascade off his arms. Lust was a perfectly posed pinup of everything Red knew Edge wanted, from the soft and open invitation to the glint of warning that he could very well get bitten in the process.

Red didn't like the idea of anyone playing games with his brother. Nobody got to tease Edge without a premium subscription, and this fucker hadn't even accepted the free trial.

Lust looked at Red without turning his head, the fake-innocent white of his pips deformed in mirth. Red might have jumped him then and there (and do what, he wasn't sure, but he had a sneaking suspicion it would have involved teeth and bones) if they hadn't been interrupted by two loud knocks on the door.

Edge finally took his eyes off Lust to crack the door open, trusting Red to watch his six. "...AMBASSADOR. ...YES, ONE OF THEM IS HERE."

Red swallowed a groan. The last thing they needed was the kid poking around before they were sure what the hell they were dealing with. Lust may have had 1s across the board, with a few zeros sprinkled in, but Red knew a threat when he saw one.

He knew a trap when he saw one.

"ambassador? fancy~" Lust slowly twisted his body to one side, stretching and contorting in a slow oozing motion until, somehow, he was laying on the table, lounging like a cat on the arm of a sofa. The angle gave Red an excellent view of his bare lumbar vertebrae, the peaks of his ilia, and just a little teasing glimpse of his ribs where his already too-short shirt was hiked up.

The door strained against Edge's unyielding hand, the force from the outside barely shaking the wood. Red couldn't see his face, but the set of Edge's shoulders clued him in to the smile he was no doubt repressing. "...VERY WELL."

Edge moved aside to allow Frisk to enter the room.

It was like a switch had been flipped: One moment Lust was lazily showing off all the things they hadn't paid for, the next he was sitting on the edge of the table, zipping up his vest to hide his spine and shirt. The seductive, predatory gleam was gone, as if it had never been, replaced with a lazy, lax grin that looked like it was being held together by silly putty.

"well, heya, kiddo," Lust's voice was soft, shielded and vulnerable all at once. It itched at Red's mind, irritating, leaving a bad taste in his mouth (a taste as bad as his mood). "whats your name?"

Frisk spelled out their name in sign, impassive and thoughtful.

Lust stuffed his hands in his pockets. "frisk, huh?" Except he pronounced it like 'fries'.

Frisk shook their head, spelling it again.

"frisk?" This time pronounced like 'freeze'.

"oh, i got it this time. frisk!!" Somehow he managed to say their name without pronouncing the 'i' at all.

Frisk stood still, arms falling to their sides, their lips a thin line in the face that was finally starting to take on a bit of chub. It reminded him of Edge's own, _'I was done with your shit five minutes ago, and this is what you want to do?'_ face, all intellectual agony and bruised sensibilities. The human turned to Edge and pointed, looking to their senior bullshit-navigation specialist for help.

"IT IS PRONOUNCED, 'FRISK,'" Edge enunciated, all but emotionless. Red knew better.

"oh, frisk," Lust finally said correctly. "it's so nice to meet you, sweetling. names sans. sans the skeleton. but you can call me bonehead, ok?" He held out his hand.

Frisk shook it. There was a soft, moist noise. The child paused, then pulled back their hand. A sort of bright green slime was attached to it, oozing with the slow viscosity of molasses.

Lust's grin spread like it was stretched taffy. "oh no. how did my slime get there?"

Frisk grabbed at the goo, making loud squishy noises as it stuck and unstuck to their skin, snapping and reforming at their every move. The child was _delighted_. All crimes were forgiven, the sacrifice accepted and expunging all sin, as they began to stretch and swirl the substance, then making it bleed between their clenched fingers.

"the fuck is that?!" Red demanded.

"watch your mouth before i watch it for you, red, sweetie~" Lust purred, the sugar-sweetness distracting from the cavities that awaited any daring to have a taste. "there is a _child_ present~"

Frisk giggled, the little shit.

Lust looked back at Red from the corner of his eyes. Red thought he saw it, the tell-tale knowing, in that moment, but Lust's only reaction was the soft squint of silent apology. "it's just slime. anyone can make it with borax, water, and glue. the color comes from soaps and food dye." He explained softly, catching a small glob that nearly hit the floor and giving it back to Frisk. "just don't eat it, ok?"

Frisk nodded, still playing with actual slime like they weren't the Ambassador of Monsterkind, responsible for the whole monster kingdom, and then some. For the moment, they were just some kid, having a moment doing kid things.

Red thought about a back alley hidden by old newspapers, a place to return to after a day of scavenging for garbage that was just a little bit better than other garbage, for food that was just good enough to feed them more than it would make them sick. He thought about the trousle of growing bones in the dark.

He pointedly didn't look at Edge.

There was a soft buzz. Red heard more than saw Edge check his phone. "HIS MAJESTY IS READY TO SEE YOU," Edge said.

Frisk somehow managed to smoosh all the slime into their pocket, reaching out to take Lust's hand in theirs. If they noticed the weird heat coming off of Lust, they didn't show it, pulling Lust along with quiet confidence.

"sorry guys, ol' fluffybuns will have to wait. i have a moral imperative to escort this small child."

"OF COURSE YOU DO." Edge somehow managed to say it with a straight face. Edge managed to do a lot of things with a straight face. Red didn't prod at that too hard, hows and whys be damned.

Edge followed Lust and Frisk, taking comically small steps to stay the same two paces behind them as their progress was determined by the stride of the resident 8-year-old (or maybe they were 12. or 7. or 14. fuck if Red remembered. Fuck if Red cared).

Red knew their 12th birthday was coming up, and he had already bribed Muffet to make 12 12-layer cakes for the big party he knew Papyrus was coordinating with Toriel. He wouldn't be bringing anything, it wasn't his kid, but he would be there, making sure nobody tried any funny business.

Frisk led them back to the meeting room, knocking twice on the big double doors. Undyne opened it, and Red could see in her face that she was juggling the merits between frying pans and fires. Getting a nod from Edge, she pushed the door open wider, letting Pink come out.

"ABOUT TIME YOU GOT HERE, S-" Pink began, only to stop dead. If Lust had acted funny at the sight of Frisk, it was nothing like Pink's immediate jump to jubilation: his pips turned to stars, magenta wisps fluttering excitedly from his left socket. "OH MY GOD IT IS A CHILD!!"

"yup."

"YOU ARE TOUCHING IT!!"

"uh-huh."

"YOU ARE SO LUCKY!! IT IS VERY NICE TO MEET YOU, HUMAN!! I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS, BUT YOU MAY CALL ME PINK. DO NOT LISTEN TO MY BROTHER. HIS NEW NAME IS GOING TO BE LUSTER."

"bro." There was a warning, a plea, a hopeless resignation, in that single involuntary word.

"YOU HAVE TO ADMIT YOU ARE EXCEPTIONALLY SLIMY."

"i mean-" Lust just smiled wider, the vulnerability gone as though it had never been, leaving only playfulness behind. "show him what you found, kiddo."

Frisk enthusiastically dug into their pocket, scooping out all the green goo and holding it out to show Undyne and Pink.

"Woah, that stuffs COOL!!" Undyne admitted.

"SANS WHY DID YOU GIVE THIS POOR INNOCENT CHILD LITERAL SLIME?!?!?!!" Pink sounded horrified.

"cuz i was outa goldfish?"

Frisk giggled triumphantly, the sound compounding that of goopy clicks and the groan of a frustrated younger brother.

"PINK, IF YOU WOULD COME WITH US WHILE... LUSTER HAS HIS INTERVIEW?" Edge suggested.

Red watched Lust as he straightened that much more, shoulders a rigid line against whatever impact Edge's words had made.

"OH YES, THAT." Pink locked eyes with his brother. There was a smile as he subtly shook his head, to which one might have never noticed the equally subtle expansion of Lust's sockets. Pink carefully stepped around Frisk (who was showing off their slime to a genuinely enthused fish bitch) to stand at Edge's side, leaving plenty of room for Lust to take his place.

As Lust strode into the room, Red regretted never having bugged it: he envied Sans getting a front row seat to what was going to be quite the show.

He'd fuck it out of him later; it would be the next best thing.

* * *

Sans had been waiting for the moment Lust would show his hand as a Judge. Papyrus had once told him it was obvious if one knew what to look for, but Sans had never quite figured out what he meant. Instead, he was left to wait for a reaction to something that could not have otherwise been known.

It was when Lust's gaze fell upon Asgore that Sans finally saw it: the monster that had up until that point been playful, welcoming smiles and understanding warmth vanished, leaving in his place what might as well have been a statue made of cold, unforgiving marble.

Lust stood there in the near-center of the room, one foot still off the ground in the process of an aborted saunter, with empty sockets trained on the king as though the void itself were attempting to swallow him.

Sans wondered idly if he had ever looked quite so creepy, or if that was an unusually powerful response.

Asgore sat in his chair, feeling the full weight of the sins crawling on his back, for however long Lust stared, unblinking. Undyne stood by his side, but even she was beginning to squirm, increasingly more irritated as the scene wore on.

Finally, the soft click of Lust's boot on the tile floor broke the deafening silence. He smiled, the gesture never reaching the cold blank pips that were now his eyes. He took another step, then another, and another, until he stood before Asgore properly. Lust still had his vest zipped up (which must have happened while he was in the other room with Red and Edge), his hands in his pockets. The casual posture only lasted one more heartbeat, before he assumed the same pose as his brother before him, bowed from the waist down at ninety degrees, one arm crossed to press the closed fist to his shoulder, the other arm straight at his side.

How convenient that the position hid his face from Asgore. How inconvenient it still gave Sans a partial view of his manic grin, stretched wide enough to show his canines in full detail, jaw clenched hard enough to crush rocks into powder (or bone into dust): it was a familiar face, though Sans wished that was a lie; the face of a man contemplating murder, knowing he could get away with it, was difficult to forget.

"should i address you as 'my king', your majesty~?" The saccharine sweetness over-saturating Lust's tone sent a shiver down Sans's spine.

"Just 'Asgore' is perfectly acceptable. How should I address you?" Asgore was already primed to take notes, getting over the unsettling weight of judgement with all the grace of his station.

Sans had to give him props for that much; Asgore didn't shy away from what he had done, nor make excuses. He made Papyrus proud, striving to do better.

Not that murder was a high bar.

"you can call me 'lust.'"

"Lust?" Asgore hesitated.

"It's short for Luster," Undyne added, helpfully (which was news to Sans).

The king smiled a bit easier. "Of course, very well. Luster-"

"lust, if you don't mind."

"...Lust, then. You may rise."

Lust stood, keeping his heels closed together as he returned both hands to his pockets. His pose was closed off, what Sans might have described as defensive at first glance, yet something (some slight angle of his body: the sharp tips of his moderated grin, the tilt of his head, the arch of his brow) made it seem as if he could make his paltry 5'1" somehow look down upon Asgore's stupidly-massive self by sheer force of attitude, and that him going out of his way _not to_ was somehow a kindness he gave out of unwarranted generosity.

Sans wasn't going to think about how all his alternates had hight on him, never mind that it couldn't have been more than an inch in Lust's case, or that that singular inch seemed to be the difference between unassuming towel boy and making an intimidation roll look like an accident. He wasn't bitter. Nope.

Let them all choke on telephone pole wires.

"There are a few questions left for you. If you don't mind answering them," Asgore continued kindly, either not noticing or dismissing the subtle threat behind Lust's smile.

"i'll answer what you ask, so pick carefully~"

Sans could hear the strain of Undyne's gauntlets where her fists were trying to flex out of the leather.

"Splendid!" Looking on the bright side, Asgore began his line of questioning from the top. "Could you tell me your stats? HP, ATK, DEF, and LV?"

Lust smiled. "ones, across the board."

The king made his notes. "And do you know how you came here?"

"not really. passed out on my couch and woke up with a face full of bush. that's not unusual, mind~" Lust's grin quirked up, his purple tongue peaking out to lick his teeth, the swipe so deliberate as to paint the memory into the mind of anyone watching. "but it sure wasn't the kind i'm used to~"

Asgore and Undyne were both pink, a critical hit at evocative imagery. Lust rolled his shoulders, cracking his neck as he let his posture relax, spreading his feet apart to shoulder width. Sans recognized the stance, the face, his mind all too easily supplying an overlay of Red, tasting first blood and getting ready for the kill.

"Yes. Well." Asgore tried to clear his throat with a cough. "What was your, ah, occupation? Before arriving here?"

"i was a snowdin sentry, third division of the royal harem."

There was that word again. Sans could feel the flinch. "Royal- Ah. Yes, Pink mentioned that..." As if Asgore had hoped it to be a jape. "What does 'Third Division' mean?"

"it means my specialty was aftercare," Lust purred, sugar velvet and sultry depths hiding the viper in wait. "quite the honor, given its importance after _strenuous_ indulgences~"

Against his better judgment (hah), Sans finally dared to look at Asgore directly. The king was drenched in sweat, the tips of his fur glistening in the dim light. His white fur looked almost red on his muzzle, he was flushed so hard in embarrassment. His pupils had shrunk so small, Sans could see the heterochromatic colors of his eyes even from that distance, clear and vivid in shocked realization. Sans had seen such a face on many people, that perfect polaroid moment when they realized he knew something they didn't want him to know.

Sans had never seen it on Asgore's face.

At least not this one's. Not that he was thinking about it.

"was there anything else?" Lust asked, tempering the bitterness with softer sweetness.

"...No. That. That is more than sufficient. Sans. If you would show Lust and his brother to the registry department."

Sans knew a dismissal when he heard one. He eased himself up, shuffling to the door. "welp. follow me."

Lust bowed once more, before slipping out the door.

Sans didn't look back either.

* * *

It couldn't have been more than two hours, two measly fucking hours, between the moment Red walked in with the new additions to the multiverse, and walked them out again with their shiny new IDs. A far cry from him and Edge, spending days and days in meeting after pointless, boring fucking meeting, having to stare at face after sickening pity drenched face.

These fuckers just danced right in and out in two fucking hours. It was enough to make Red sick.

"SO NOW WHAT?" Pink asked, tucking his new photo ID into his pocket, where it would likely await its new home in a new wallet.

"now we go get a good hotel," Lust answered, grinning. "with private rooms. the sock method never works."

"DO NOT PRETEND THAT THE SOCK WAS FOR MY BENEFIT."

Lust just giggled, unzipping his vest again to let his delicate spine enjoy the open air.

"actually," Sans cut in. "was thinking you guys might like staying at our place, remember? just until you get on your feet?"

Red had heard Sans bitch about his and Edge's silent conversations. Watching the new brothers do the same thing and not understand shit was an uncomfortable, irritating experience.

"WE DID NOT WANT TO ASSUME," Pink tried with all the delicacy of a butterfly wing, the tone that light, airy sine wave that sounded more like 'we thought that that was empty courtesy and would rather swallow a shit-covered cherry bomb than be an imposition'.

"no assumptions here," Sans hummed, that stupid grin on his face that he wears whenever he's killing someone with kindness (to which Red was a firm believer of 'better you than me').

"THEN WE WILL BE HAPPY TO ACCEPT. BUT ONLY UNTIL WE CAN FIND OUR OWN PLACE."

Lust stretched. "can ya show us where to crash? i need to know where i'm going after my date tonight~"

The reminder made Red's blood boil, yet somehow Sans took it in stride. "yup. cmon. we might just make the bus."

Unhurried as ever, Sans shuffled off towards his usual bus stop, an excited Pink following him with aplomb in the face if the rumored 'dirty bus seats'.

Lust was going to trail after them.

"big date tonight, eh?" Red asked, stopping Lust mid-step. "how much he paying ya?"

Lust didn't turn around. "more than you'll pay~"

And that was it, wasn't it?

Lust kept walking. Red dragged himself over to the nearest trashcan and pulled his cigarettes out, only managing to light one because his muscle memory outclassed the shaking they were trying to do. He heard the asthmatic wheezing of the rickety bus that Sans still took more often than not pull up at the curb, then moments later groan away. Red didn't move from his spot until he'd finished his pack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i still feel like this kind of fell flat, but its the beginning i need to do the miniseries i want
> 
> gonna enjoy this
> 
> stay tuned for the series~


End file.
